So I’m just sitting here, of a Sunday afternoon, when my son, Peter, wanders into the room, book (about Quentin Tarantino and his films) in hand, and asks me what “juxtaposition” means. It’s a sort of comparison, I say.
Peter: This is about the ear-cutting scene… [He wishes further enlightenment, my son does.]
Me: Like in Blue Velvet.
Peter: What? [further mumbles on both sides — edited to save space and sanity] No, in Reservoir Dogs. [pause] Haven’t you seen Reservoir Dogs?
Me: Not all the way through. [waxes poetic] Heck, I haven’t even seen The Sound of Music all the way through… [true fact… go figure]
Peter: What? What’s that?
Me: A musical, from the sixties, with Julie Andrews in it.
Peter: Hunh? I don’t watch that stuff…
I manage to shoo him out of the room.
Question to readers: what in (insert expletive) do I do with that kid???
white pebble 